


Look, but don't touch

by Doubledoppeldonger



Category: Borderlands
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Trans Male Character, too lazy to tag tbh, trans!Rhys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6941149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doubledoppeldonger/pseuds/Doubledoppeldonger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys and Jack always have a movie night at Jack’s penthouse on fridays. The problem is, Jack always picks the movies and it makes Rhys feel like he’s going to die from boredom. </p>
<p>So he finds another way to entertain himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look, but don't touch

Rhys yawned again for what seemed like the 50th time during the film. It was a Friday night, which meant movie night at Jack’s, and honestly, Rhys didn’t know why Jack always insisted on these. He was always either on his ECHO, arguing with a poor, incompetent soul on the other end in such a loud voice that it would block out the sound from the TV, or he was working on his laptop like he was currently. Jack always chose the movie too, it would be some super old movie Rhys didn’t recognize, the ones that would go for nearly three hours and have a 2 minute blank screen halfway through the movie meant for an ‘intermission’.

And goddamn did it drive Rhys into the worse states of boredom. He leaned his head on his fist, his arm propped up on the arm of the couch while the rest of him was lying sideways across the plush surface. His legs were bent uncomfortably to keep them away from Jack, he threatened to chop his feet off if he poked him with his toes again. Rhys glanced at the movie again and sighed, he couldn’t make any wise cracks about Jack’s age and movie choice because he would probably get kicked out of the penthouse and truth be told, he loved Jack’s couch. The wide, plush sofa that he could just melt into, it always seemed to be warm, but not the gross ‘ _someone just had their ass on here_ ’ warm, but the ‘ _holy shit_ _there’s totally seat warmers or an electric blanket under this_ ’ kind of warm.  Jack could make as many jokes about Rhys’ ‘affair’ with his couch as he wanted. Rhys had fallen asleep countless times on this couch and the first time Jack had fucked him on it, _holy hell_ it was some kind of religious experience.

Just the thought of that night made Rhys squeeze his thighs together, him on his stomach, squished between Jack’s broad, hairy chest and the heated cushions beneath him. Rhys bit his lip and his eyes flicked over to where Jack was sitting on the other side of the couch, the man had barely moved all night, staring down at the screen and his fingers tapping annoyingly against the keys of his laptop. Thick rimmed glasses sat on his face, and he’d occasionally bob his head to get his stupid fringe out of his face.

Rhys sighed and rubbed his thighs together again, he could feel a small pit of arousal burning within him and _fuck_ did an orgasm sound better than watching this movie. He looked down at the blanket barely covering his feet, most of it was across Jack’s lap and legs, looking like the old man he really was. He’d tried pulling it back up his legs a little while ago but Jack just growled and told Rhys to ‘get his own damn blanket’.

Which was honestly ridiculous because the one Jack had was big enough for the both of them.

Rhys looked back at the screen, he’d lost his place in the plot three times now, all that was on screen was some cowboy looking guy trying to ride a wild alpha skag. He swore he’d seen it one other time in the movie, but nothing came to mind. Maybe he should try watching it.

_Nah, fuck that._

He was willing to take his chances getting caught, but with how cut off to the world his boyfriend was while working, he could probably come twice and Jack would still be looking at that damn screen. He tested the waters.

“Hey Jack, how long does the movie go for?”

“Not now pumpkin, daddy’s working.”

Rhys smirked and resisted the urge to laugh. He slipped the tip of his fingers into his waistband, keeping his gaze on the TV. He flinched slightly when he reached further into his boxer shorts, his hand slightly colder than the skin around his hips. The muscles in his legs twitched when he pressed the tips of two fingers against his clit, rubbing small, slow circles, building up his arousal more and more.

His eyes glanced over at Jack briefly, thankful that the man was still focused on his work, and he sighed contently. He parted his slit, trailing one of his fingers downwards, feeling his own slick starting to form. Rhys brought his fingers back up to his clit, feeling it pulse against his fingers, oh he was definitely aroused now. His face his hot and flushed, the feeling washing over his chest and flowing through the rest of his body.

He alternates between playing with his nub and sliding his fingers over his slick hole for a little while longer before he presses one finger slowly inside, his breath hitching slightly. He rubbed along his walls and slid in another finger alongside the first, curling his fingers and letting out a quiet whine. Rhys’ thighs are quivering, and his mouth hangs open slightly, his breath coming out in hot, silent gasps.

He continues to curl his fingers and his hips buck upwards slightly as one of his fingers rub against his g-spot. He scissors his fingers a bit and lets out an accidental moan, immediately biting his lip. Rhys’ eyes fly up at Jack, who’s looking straight at him with wide eyes. Rhys feels his face grow hotter as a smirk stretches across Jack’s face.

The older man starts an awkward scramble, closing his laptop and placing it on the coffee table, kicking the blanket of himself before he’s hovering above Rhys. He lowers his glasses down to the tip of his nose, before taking them off completely and tossing them onto the table alongside his laptop. His smirk grows into a wide grin as he looks Rhys up and down.

“I thought this was movie night, babe.” Jack whispered, his voice low and husky.

Rhys huffed, rolling his eyes, “You choose the worst movies, let me pick one next time.”

“And miss out on this?” He rolled his hips, the growing bulge in his sweatpants hitting against Rhys’ hand, “Not happening.”

Rhys glared up at that man, feeling his large hands tuck themselves into the waistband of his boxers, the article of clothing slowly being dragged down his thighs. He quivered as his warm core hit the cool air, and he gasped, his lips suddenly covered by thick, warm ones as Jack kissed him, his tongue trying to pry its way into Rhys’ mouth.

He melted into the kiss, it was sloppy and lustful. Just as he was getting into it, Jack pulled back, shimmying down the couch to settle himself between Rhys’ long legs. Rhys raised a brow at the cheeky look on his lover’s face, he was kinda ticked off that suddenly he was all over him now that he was horny. Jack left little kisses on his thighs, trailing down to where he really wanted his mouth to be, but before he could reach it, Rhys put a hand over his mouth.

Jack lifted himself up, eyebrows furrowing at the smirk on Rhys’ face, asking a muffled ‘What gives?’ into the younger man’s hand.

“No touching.”

Rhys chuckled slightly as Jack looked at him with a confused expression. He pulled his hand away from Jack’s face and started playing with his wet entrance again, keeping eye contact with Jack the whole time.

Jack wiped the slick that was left on his face from Rhys’ fingers with the back of his hand, his eyes alternating between looking into Rhys’, and down to what he was doing with his fingers. He audibly gulped and clenched his fists as Rhys teasingly rubbed his calf against Jack’s hairy forearm, slowly inserting two fingers inside himself again.

Jack groaned out low and licked his lips, watching the sight of Rhys scissor and stretch himself out, feeling the muscles of his legs twitch and tense against his arms as he continued to pleasure himself. He tried to run a hand along one of his thighs, but quickly retracted it as Rhys slapped it with his cybernetic palm.

He pouted and glared at Rhys.

“You can look, big boy,” Rhys paused as he let out a soft sigh, fingers curling and making wet, obscene sounds, “But you can’t touch.”

“But-”

“If you touch me without permission, I won’t blow you for a month, Jack.”

Jack resisted the urge to spread the cocky bastard’s long legs and fuck him into next week, instead he leant back against the arm of the couch on the opposite side, spreading his legs out to match Rhys. He heard the younger man chuckle as he got a full view of the prominent outline of his hardened cock in his sweatpants. Jack raises an eyebrow, palming himself with his hand, watching as Rhys’ eyes flicker down to watch before he bites his lip.

“Oh c’mon sweet thing, you know you want it.” Jack growled out, pulling down the waistband of his pants and tucking the front of it under his ballsack, his erection standing upright in all its glory.

A cocky grin tugs at the corners of Rhys’ lips, and he leans back against his side of the couch more, tucking his cybernetic hand behind his head and grinding his hips against the heated pillow.

“Yeah, I do, but you want me more.”

Jack growled, fine, two can play at this game.

He slowly wrapped his fingers around the base of his dick, lazily stroking up and down. He sighed out and spat into his hand, beginning to build up speed as he felt his own arousal starting to pool in his gut. Jack rubbed his thumb over his slit, smearing the precum that was building there, he looked up at Rhys, who had his head tilted back against the arm of the couch. His legs are spread out wider and his fingers are thrusting into himself at a fast pace, the heel of his hand grinding against his clit, wringing out sweet moans from him. Jack cursed and got up from the couch abruptly, awkwardly shuffling into another room with his cock out. 

Ok, so maybe he couldn’t play this game.

Rhys lifted his head, stilling his movements slightly, his eyes halfway lidded from the lust. When Jack appears again, he fiddling with something in his hand, and with the familiar crinkle of foil tearing, Rhys knows exactly what it is. The broader man kneels on the couch, leaning over Rhys as he slips the condom on. Rhys raises an eyebrow and looks up at his boyfriend.

Jack holds himself over Rhys, not touching the other in any way, “Can I?” he mutters, eyes just as hazy with lust.

“What’s the magic word handsome?”

“Can I _please_ fuck your cocky little ass into next week?”

Rhys smirks, chuckling as he wraps his arms around Jack’s neck, “If you really want to.”

“Oh fuck you kiddo.”

Rhys’ snickering trails off into a content moan as Jack pushes into him slowly. He wraps his long legs around the older man’s hips as he bottoms out, Jack letting out a blissful sigh. He leans down and buries his face into Rhys’ neck, peppering the skin with light kisses as he rolls his hips slightly, smiling at the way he hears Rhys’ breath hitch.

 Soon both of them are panting shamelessly, Jack’s hips pounding into Rhys at a rough, sloppy pace. Rhys meets his thrust with small bucks of his hips, enjoying the way his bare ass rubs against the material beneath him. Jack sinks his teeth into his neck, just above his tattoo, and Rhys lets out a long, obscene moan.

One of Jack’s hands grip Rhys’ hip tightly, lifting him up slightly for a better angle, while the other sneaks under the sweater on the man beneath him, his thumb tracing up his body and circling around to pull his body closer. Rhys releases one of his arms from around Jack’s neck, bringing it down to his clit and rubbing against it at a frantic pace, in tight circles.

Jack came first with a low groan and a muffled ‘ _fuck_ ’ into Rhys’ neck, his hips stuttering and stopping once he buried himself deep within his boyfriend. Rhys would’ve teased Jack about it, but he found himself finishing close after, his muscles clenching and unclenching as it washes over him. He continues to rub his clit, riding out his orgasm until he’s too sensitive and stops.

They laid there for a bit, catching their breaths, before Jack propped himself up on his elbows, pulling himself out of Rhys. He clumsily takes off the condom and tosses it on the floor. Rhys’ face scrunches in disgust while Jack looks down at him with a tired grin on his face.

“Y’know, I knew what you were doing the whole time.”

Rhys chuckled and closed his eyes, content with falling asleep right then and there, “Oh really?”

Jack laid himself back down, comfortably squishing Rhys into the couch, “You think you’re quiet pumpkin, but you’re not.”

The younger man hummed in agreement and dragged his fingers through Jack’s hair lightly, making him snort at the lax response.

“Let’s go to bed babe.”

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was prompted by Tam and it couldn't be left undone


End file.
